"Listen!"

"What is it?" she said, turning back, as she was going away, and glancing at him with two smiling, malicious eyes that completed her conquest of him.

"Pardon, if my words offended you."

Fernanda tossed her head disdainfully and went off, exclaiming:

"Repent sinner, or h.e.l.l will have you!"

"h.e.l.l!"

This word, uttered at random, as a joke, gave him a sudden shock, and called him back again to the habitual tenor of his thoughts. All the Gayosos had lived under the influence of this baneful idea. But the terror of his ancestors seemed concentrated in his mind, tormenting and maddening him to a degree. Amalia had had a hard struggle to distract him for a little time from his scruples. Therefore, when she now signed to him to come to her she saw he moodily rose from his seat, and came towards her with slow, unwilling steps. She had too much tact and pride to show any vexation at the short conversation just held with his old _fiancee_. She received him with the same smile, speaking with her habitually a.s.sumed tone of cheerfulness, and she did not mention Fernanda's name. But her pallid lips contracted with anger every time his eyes turned towards the girl, which they often unwittingly did.

A beautiful child with blue eyes and long fair hair now appeared at the door with a servant.

"Oh, how late!" exclaimed the Senora de Quinones. "Why are you so late in bringing her, Paula?" she added severely.

The servant replied that the child was so amused at playing: "Let them give to the kite," that she cried every time they wanted her to go to bed.

"Are you not sleepy yet, my treasure?" said the lady drawing her to her, and pa.s.sing her hand caressingly over her curls.

The guests were very interested in the little creature, and she went from one to the other, receiving caresses from one and the other, and returning them with good-night kisses.

"Good-night, Josefina. Until to-morrow, my treasure. Have you been good to-day? And has your G.o.dmother bought you a doll that shuts its eyes?"

The count regarded her with tears in his eyes, whilst he made incredible efforts to master his emotion. He always felt the same when he saw the child. When his turn came he only brushed her fair cheek with his lips; but Josefina, with the fine instinct of children, who always know who loves them, threw her arms round his neck, and gave evidence of particular affection for him. Fernanda also regarded her with intense interest, with a curiosity so great, that she opened her eyes wide.

Josefina was six years old, she had a creamy complexion, eyes of infinite sweetness, and something sad and delicate about her diminutive person. One detected at once her likeness to the count. When the child left him, his eyes met Fernanda's, and he was so embarra.s.sed, that he took a seat farther off.

Josefina was dressed with taste. The Senores de Quinones brought her up with every indulgence like an adopted child. This had been for some time the favourite topic of gossip in Lancia. The cost of her little hats was guessed at with the greatest interest; the number of her toys was commented upon, and calculations were made as to what her marriage _dot_ would be. But such remarks ended by getting stale. It was only when the subject came up, that some sarcastic allusion was made, or some new discovery whispered. The child came to a stop before a group, in which figured Maria Josefa, the young lady with the long spiteful tongue, and Manuel Antonio, as beautiful as the first rays of morning.

"Listen, Josefina; who do you love best--your G.o.dmother or your G.o.dfather?" asked he of the child.

"My G.o.dmother," replied the child, without hesitation.

"And who do you love most--your G.o.dfather or the count?"

The child looked at him astonished with her large blue eyes, and a shade of distrust pa.s.sed over them, as, with a frown on her beautiful brow, she returned:

"My G.o.dfather."

"But does not the count bring you lots of toys? Does he not take you in his carriage to the Grange? Has he not brought you the little waggon?"

"Yes, but he is not my G.o.dfather."

The group received this reply with a smile. They knew that the child lied, for Don Pedro was not a man to inspire any one with affection.

"But I think the count is also your--fa--G.o.dfather."

"No such thing. I have only one G.o.dfather," returned the child, now getting angry. And then she left the group.

She then went to where Amalia was, and placing herself before her, she crossed her little arms upon her chest, and making a curtsey, said:

"G.o.dmother, your blessing."

Whereupon the lady gave her her hand, which the child kissed with reverence. Then, taking her in her arms, she kissed her on the forehead.

"You must go to bed, my daughter. Go and ask your G.o.dfather for his blessing."

So the child went to the library. These old world customs were a great pleasure to the Senor de Quinones. Josefina approached him timidly. That great paralysed gentleman always inspired her with dread, although she tried to hide it according to her G.o.dmother's injunctions.

"Senor, your blessing," she said in a subdued voice.

The pompous old Grandee paid no attention, and looked at the cards he held in his hand, whilst wrapped in his grey cloak with the red cross, he seemed to grow bigger and bigger before the frightened eyes of poor Josefina. She thought that there was n.o.body in the world more immense, more imposing, and more worthy of respect than that n.o.ble senor; and Don Pedro shared the same opinion, so that all other beings with whom he came in contact seemed a chaotic ma.s.s, in which only two or three were possessed of any individual character. The child waited, with her little arms crossed, for about a quarter of an hour. At last the Senor de Quinones, after playing a good card, condescended to cast a severe look upon the child which turned her pale. He then stretched out his aristocratic hand with a gesture worthy of his namesake, Peter the Great of Russia, and Josefina pressed her trembling lips upon it and then withdrew. The bombastic old fellow was not quite pleased at his wife treating the little foundling with so much indulgence, but he consented because it flattered his vanity, for Amalia, knowing his weak point, said:

"Treating her like a servant is what anybody would do in Lancia. We ought to do things in another fashion."

So Don Pedro could not but see the weight of that undeniable truth.

Josefina crossed the drawing-room to go to bed. As she pa.s.sed by Fernanda, she caught her by the arm and dragged her to her. All the joy and love that filled her heart overflowed with vehemence upon the little creature whom she covered with kisses. She forgot all about her rival whom she considered defeated. She only thought that it was a child of his, his blood, his very image. And she kissed with ecstasy those blue, deep, melancholy, eyes, that creamy skin, and those yellow curls that surrounded her face like a golden aureole.

"Oh, what beautiful hair! What beautiful curls!"

And she pressed her lips on the child's head with so much feeling that she was not far from crying.

At that moment a sharp, imperious voice sounded in her ears.

"Not gone to bed yet! you naughty girl."

And on raising her eyes, Fernanda saw Amalia with a pallid face and compressed lips, take the child roughly by the arm, and after giving her a sharp shake, she dragged her to the door.

CHAPTER XI

AMALIA'S RAGE

The next morning Paula, by command of the senora, took the child off to the ironing-room, sat her in a high chair, and asked a young girl, who was working at the window, for some scissors.

"What are you going to do?" Josefina asked.

"Cut your hair."

"Why? I don't want my hair cut."

Whereupon she got down from the chair with determination, but Paula turned back and put her up again.

"Be quiet," she said severely.